


Give My Heart A Holiday

by aprilbird



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beebo - Freeform, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fix-It, Fluff and Crack, Implied Past John Constantine/Oliver Queen, Multi, Sara Lance is a badass, Slight Spoilers For Legends s3 Finale, Spoilers for Arrow s6 finale, Spoilers for Episode: s06e23 Life Sentance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilbird/pseuds/aprilbird
Summary: Diggle looked like he was fighting the urge to sprint away, or maybe throw a chair. Dinah’s eyebrows were practically in her hairline. Felicity had a game face on, but she had a death grip on Oliver’s arm. Sara just beamed at the woman, and Oliver thought distantly that it was the happiest he had seen her look in a very long time.“Time demon, Shmime Shmemon,” Sara said, grinning broadly. “We defeated that shitstack with the power of cuddles and friendship."Basically, a rewrite of the Arrow season 6 finale in which everything is mostly fine and people talk about their feelings, ft. teamwork, tattoos, pajamas of questionable design, and plenty of flirting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘Strawberries and Cigarettes’ by Troye Sivan

He found her pacing a hallway, arms crossed, bloodied hair shining in the too-bright hospital lighting.

It still hurt Oliver to see her, every time. He would catch her in the corner of his eye and think _Laurel_ instantly- a gut reaction of love and guilt, honed over a lifetime of knowing each other. She wasn’t Laurel, though, wasn’t _his_ Laurel. She was her own person who had made her own mistakes, and he had accepted that. It still hurt. But pain was one thing Oliver Queen was used to.

“Laurel?” he called. _Ouch. Ignore it._

She turned, her expression closed and defensive. “What.”

“I have to talk to Agent Watson in a second, but… I just wanted to thank you.”

She scoffed. “For what? Ruining your life for all these months? Getting Quentin shot? He’s going into surgery in a few minutes, and he might not make it, because of me.”

“For stopping, when I asked you to,” he said, voice calm. “For not blasting Diaz into the water. You had every right to, after everything he’s done. But you didn’t, and now he’s with the FBI, and we’ve got all the evidence against him. We won.”

She shrugged her crossed arms, gesturing at their surroundings with a flick of her fingers. “Did we?”

Oliver smiled tightly. “About that.”

She made a face that mostly involved eyebrows. It was such a Laurel expression, yet simultaneously _not_. “What do you need me to do?”

“I would do it myself, but I really need to talk to Watson,” he apologized, handing her his phone. “I just need you to make a call.”

\---

“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen,” said Agent Watson, shaking her head. “But the success of this mission does not change the terms of our earlier agreement. You’re still going to prison.”

He sighed, letting his head fall. “I know. I just… I guess I got my hopes up for a second.” Stupid. After all these years, he really should have known better.

She folded her arms, face impassive, but there was a note of sympathy in her voice. “I understand. We couldn’t have done this without you and your team, so I’ll wait until we hear the outcome of Mayor Lance’s operation before I-”

There was a strange, zipping, tearing sound, a flash of light. 

_POOF_. 

“....Before, I… what was I saying?” Agent Watson asked, bewildered. 

There was a woman standing between them who hadn’t been there a moment before. She wore a tight bun and a sharp suit with a pin glinting on the lapel, and she had both hands on something pointed in Agent Watson’s face. Oliver instinctively moved to intercept it, but froze when the woman started talking. 

“You were saying that you would wait until you heard the outcome of the Mayor’s operation before filling out your field report,” the woman stated, voice even and full of authority. “The field report is for the mission you just completed to take down Ricardo Diaz, which you did with the help of the Green Arrow and his compatriots.”

Oliver stared as the woman turned a dial on the device and continued, the light growing brighter. “You came to Star City last year to investigate a claim that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow, claims which were based on a doctored photograph. Nonetheless, you continued your investigation, but nothing lined up- not for Mayor Queen, and not for any of his friends. Meanwhile, Diaz maneuvered Mr. Queen into the events that led to his impeachment and into standing trial. During that trial, Tommy Merlyn announced that he was the Green Arrow, and Mr. Queen was cleared of charges. You and your team investigated and found proof that Mr. Merlyn is, in fact, alive, and has been working as the Green Arrow, and before that, as the Arrow, for the past six years. Roy Harper is innocent, and is alive. There are plans for all charges against him to be dropped as well.”

Watson nodded distantly. The woman turned up the device one last time and leaned in, face serious. “You devised a plan to capture Diaz. Mr. Merlyn and his team of unknown vigilantes came to you and asked for your help. You didn’t like it, but you agreed without terms. It is thanks to their help that Ricardo Diaz is now in prison, but unfortunately Mayor Lance was shot. You are in the hospital now, with Mayor Lance’s friends and family. Mr. Merlyn and the other vigilantes have left. You and your agents have the means to contact them should you need their assistance in the future, but you will let them be.”

“I will let them be,” repeated Watson.

“All evidence against Mr. Queen and his friends was orchestrated by Diaz,” the woman stated, lowering the device slowly. “Oliver Queen is not the Green Arrow.”

“Oliver Queen is not the Green Arrow,” said Watson, to Oliver, and they were alone in the hallway. He stared at the place where the woman was, a second ago. Had she really just stepped through a door of light? He turned to Watson, who was zipping up her coat. 

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for all the trouble, but it really is true, isn’t it? You aren’t the Green Arrow, Tommy is. I had my doubts, but after just taking down a crime lord with the man, there’s not a lot left _to_ doubt.”

Oliver’s throat worked, trying to get the sound out. It took him a couple tries. “I… yes. He is.”

“I can see now why you were acting so suspicious,” she admitted, giving him a small smile. “He’s your best friend. No wonder you used your ‘in’ with him when you were Mayor.”

He couldn’t help his grimace at the use of present tense regarding Tommy, but thankfully she interpreted it as frustration over her mention of his impeachment.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Queen,” she said, grasping his shoulder. “I’m sure Mayor Lance will pull through, and then you two can work together to get you reinstated. You should go back and wait with the others, I just had to pull you aside to apologize.”

He stared. “You, um,” he swallowed. “You’re good. We’re good. No hard feelings.” 

She smiled and turned as a group of FBI agents rounded the corner, looking similarly dazed. One waved at him, young face looking a little starstruck. He waved back, unthinkingly, mind reeling. There was an emotion filling him that he hadn’t let himself feel in a long, long time. _Hope_. 

Immediately, he tried to squash it down. That whole conversation with Watson had started because he had gotten his hopes up, jumping at the possibility that maybe success meant that he wouldn’t have to leave William and Felicity. Those hopes had been dashed, but now, this.... He didn’t know what to think. So he fell back on the instincts that had been trained into him: first, gather intel.

\---

Fifteen minutes later, he concluded that, as Slade would have so eloquently put it, there was Some Bullshit going down.

Most of the FBI agents had left the hospital, but the ones that were still there just stared past him, or smiled vaguely. A few apologized for all that he had lost because of the ‘false accusations’. Not one of them recognized him as the Green Arrow, despite him having planned and directed with his hood down and mask off for the better part of the last day.

At first he thought that the mysterious woman must have gotten to them all, but he quickly dismissed that as impossible. How could one person, even one with a magic teleporter-door-thing and a memory-wiper-flashy-thing (he wasn’t Cisco, alright?), manage to get to everyone in such a short amount of time?

He rounded the corner, heading towards the room of one of the agents who had been hurt in the battle. A few had died, but most were unharmed or only injured superficially. Clearly the unharmed ones didn’t recognize him as the Green Arrow, and had all been sold the same story as Watson. Most of the injured were being operated on, but this one had only been grazed. Stitches were needed, according to her superior, who had accepted the explanation of _Mr Queen is clearly jittery and feels the need to check on others while he waits for an answer about Quentin_. 

When Oliver opened the door, however, he found the agent laying back, bandages peeking from the neck of her hospital gown, staring vacantly at the device pointed in her face by a nervous looking man in glasses and a suit similar to the one the woman had worn. The man whipped his head towards Oliver, bringing one finger to his lips as the other held the device steady.

The agent nodded, clearly in response to whatever the man had just said. “Agent Watson ordered us to let them be.”

The man kept his eyes on Oliver as he spoke to her. “All evidence against Mr. Queen and his friends was orchestrated by Diaz. Oliver Queen is not the Green Arrow.”

“Oliver Queen is not the Green Arrow.”

“Good, you did great- sleep, now,” the man said, tucking the device into his suit pocket and pushing a button on the machines next to the hospital bed. The agent dropped off, breathing steadily. He looked up at Oliver. “Uh, hey, Mr. Queen, it’s an honor to meet you and everything, but I have to go-” he tapped something on his watch, and there was that zipping, tearing sound, and there was a door of light opening up out of nowhere. 

Oliver stared through it, shocked, wondering why that hazy room looked so familiar. The man stepped through it, turning back to him, nothing but a silhouette. “I’m really sorry, I have to go, Captain Lance will explain everything!” 

The door closed with a _zip_. 

Oliver left the agent’s room, closing the door behind him. Captain Lance? But Quentin was Mayor, now, he hadn’t been a Captain for- He froze with his hand on the door. Not Quentin. _Sara_.

\---

As he ran back to the waiting room, to the others, Oliver heard three more zip-tears, saw two more flashes of light, and saw what looked like Ray Palmer stepping through a light-door as it closed. By the time he reached the waiting room where he had left Felicity, Dig, Curtis, Rene, and Dinah, he was slightly out of breath. Funny how unexplained magic/time travel/future tech shit could do that to you. 

Felicity jumped out of her chair when she saw him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oliver, Quentin’s okay! We just got news, he’s got a long road to recovery but the surgery went fine, he’s gonna live!” 

He wrapped his arms around her, feeling his knees go weak with relief. “That’s great, Felicity, that…” He let out his breath, running a hand over his face. Felicity lowered him into one of the chairs that lined the wall. She took in his heavy breathing, his shaky hands. 

“Hey, you ok?” She asked, concern on her face. “Did something happen with Watson? Does it have to do with that deal you mentioned?”

He smiled at her. “There is no deal. At least, I don’t think so. Actually, that’s kind of a strange story-”

“One that, hopefully, I can shed some light on.” And there was Sara, turning from her conversation with Dig, beaming at him. She was all golden shirt and glowing smile and gleaming hair, and to Oliver she looked like the embodiment of all the hope he hadn’t let himself feel. He wrapped her in a hug, spinning her around and laughing into her hair. He was okay. Quentin was going to be okay. Everything was okay and Sara was here and he didn’t have to leave his family because he wasn’t going to prison because she was brilliant and had done… something. He set her down, pulling away so he could see her face. 

“Sara Lance,” he said, hands on her shoulders. “What… I don’t even know what to ask. You did this. You, I don’t, how did you do this?”

Sara quirked an eyebrow, pointing a thumb over her shoulder to where Laurel leaned against the wall, looking relieved but holding herself several feet away from the group. “It was actually her idea, believe it or not.” 

Oliver turned to face her, eyes wide. “Laurel?”

Laurel shrugged one shoulder. “You told me to call Sara, in case things went south with Quentin. I did, and when I asked how she would get here in time she told me she had a _timeship_. As in, a spaceship full of future tech. And then,” she looked away, swallowed hard. “I, um, I know I’ve done some bad things these past few months. Some really bad things.” She looked at Dinah, who tightened her lips but didn’t say anything. 

“I wanted to make up for it, after you thanked me. I knew about your deal, Oliver,” she admitted, rolling her eyes at his incredulous stare. “What? I spied on you guys for months. I know how to read you, how to predict what you’ll do. Once you came back from your meeting with Watson and started making your apologies, saying your goodbyes, I knew what you’d promised her. A confession. Oliver Queen goes to prison and the rest get immunity, how noble.”

He felt, rather than saw, Felicity’s glare burning a hole in his face. 

Laurel glanced at Dinah again. “Like I said, I’ve done nothing but hurt you guys since I got here, and Oliver was about to hurt you all worse. So I filled Sara in and asked her what to do, and it turned out that she knew someone who could help.”

Oliver glanced at Sara, who mouthed _Later_. Laurel shrugged. “All I did was ask for help. Sara and her people figured out how to wipe all the agents’ memories, and how to explain everything that happened without incriminating all of you.”

Oliver stared at her. “ _Thank you_ ,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. And you, Sara.”

“Excuse me, are you all here for Mayor Lance?” asked a nurse, peering into the room. “Sorry, but he won’t be able to have visitors until tomorrow at least, maybe a few days more.”

“But he is gonna be ok?” Rene asked. Felicity gripped Oliver’s sleeve, as if bracing herself.

“It may take a while, but I can confirm that he’ll make a full recovery,” the nurse confirmed. Everyone relaxed, Felicity actually sighing in relief. “I’d suggest you all go get some rest, maybe clean up a bit.” 

That last comment was directed kindly towards Laurel, who still had Quentin’s blood on her hair and her clothes. 

The nurse left, and Curtis glanced around at the group. “So, where do we go? Our base blew up, yours got burned up, and all our apartments got shot up.” 

Sara looked horrified. 

Diggle sighed, checking his phone. “Lyla says she and the kids are gonna stay in the safe house for a few more days, just until everything settles down, and, y’know, we sweep the broken glass out of everywhere.”

Sara squinted at him. “Are you saying that Diaz _shot up all your homes?_ ”

“Not mine,” Dinah said. “I got attacked on the street. But my apartment is too small for all of you.”

Sara shook her head, hair swishing. “Wow. Compared to you guys, this year has been a breeze for my team.”

“You sure about that? You did have to battle an unstoppable time demon to save reality,” said the woman from before, stepping out of a glowing door that had just materialized in the wall. She wore the same dark suit, but her hair was down, cascading blonde over one shoulder. She smiled at Sara. “Mission complete, Captain, all the necessary memory adjustments have been made and all necessary evidence has been… rearranged.”

Diggle looked like he was fighting the urge to sprint away, or maybe throw a chair. Dinah’s eyebrows were practically in her hairline. Felicity had a game face on, but she had a death grip on Oliver’s arm. Sara just beamed at the woman, and Oliver thought distantly that it was the happiest he had seen her look in a very long time.

“Time demon, Shmime Shmemon,” Sara said, grinning broadly. “We defeated that shitstack with the power of cuddles and friendship. Guys, this is Ava Sharpe, Director of the Time Bureau. Ava, this is Oliver, Felicity, Dig, Rene, Curtis, and Dinah. And… this is Laurel.”

Laurel looked surprised to have been included, but said nothing. Ava considered them all. “You all need somewhere safe to clean up, maybe stay for a while? We might have a place.”

“There’s, like, seven of us. What kind of place just casually has room for seven extra people?” Curtis wondered.

“Sorry, I’m still hung up on ‘time demon’, here,” Dig interjected, raising a hand.

“And I got tripped up on ‘cuddles and friendship’, Hoss, but you can’t let it shake you,” Rene whispered to him. “Just gotta try and follow what you can. Roll with the punches.”

“The Waverider can hold plenty of people in an emergency, seven won’t be a problem,” Sara reassured them, ignoring Dig and Rene altogether. 

Oliver stared past the group, suddenly feeling eyes on him from the hall. “Actually, maybe make that eight people,” he said quietly. “Give me a second, guys.”

“The time-traveling spaceship?!” Curtis asked as he walked by, eyes wide. “ _Hell yes_.”

The excited chatter faded as he took in the man in front of him. “I… thank you. I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying today, but thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Not a problem, _Kapiushon_ ,” Anatoly Knyazev smiled tersely, shrugging one shoulder. His fur-lined coat was ripped and spattered with blood, and he stood in the shadows as if unsure whether to proceed into the waiting room. “I am only sorry that I took so long to come around.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?” Oliver asked, glancing behind him. “Is something wrong?”

“I am not sure, Oliver. One moment, I am being told by FBI of my crimes- assisting Diaz, and Cayden James, various Bratva things. Next minute, there is strange young man with some device, convincing agent that I only helped and should be let go. He told me to come to hospital and find you.”

“A strange young man, huh?” Oliver mused. “Sharp suit, glasses, general air of nervous twitchiness?”

“That would be Gary,” sighed Ava, walking towards them. “I did the key memory adjustments myself, but I delegated some to other agents, or the more responsible Legends.” So that was Ray that he had seen, then.

At this point, Sara, who had one arm slung over Dinah’s shoulders and the other around Rene, turned and grinned at Ava. “You’re new to this whole ‘Director’ thing, but don’t worry- it gets easier to give tasks to other people. For instance, I left Nate in control of the Bridge and I’m barely freaking out.”

Ava made a face. “But still, _Gary_.”

“I thought he did fine job,” Anatoly remarked. “Perhaps I am biased.”

“Well, Laurel told me everything, and there was no way I was leaving you out,” Sara said, releasing Dinah and Rene to give him a quick hug. “I know you and Ollie have had some drama, or whatever, but the three of us kicked ass, years ago.”

Anatoly blinked, as if unsure of what to say. Oliver took the opportunity to step in. “Anatoly, if you need somewhere to go, Sara just offered her timeship- if that’s okay with you?” He glanced at Sara, who gave him two thumbs up.

“A timeship?” Anatoly blinked incredulously. “Now this is something I must see.”

Ava gestured towards the shining doorway that still stood open. “Right this way, then, everyone.”

“This way to the party bus,” Sara giggled, taking Ava’s hand and bumping their shoulders together with practiced comfort. 

_Oh_. Okay, then.

Oliver raised his eyebrows a little, taking Felicity’s hand as he followed her through the doorway, out of the hospital and onto the so-called ‘party bus’. This should be interesting, at the very least.


	2. Chapter 2

The few times that Oliver had been on the Waverider in the past had been hectic moments in the middle of a crisis. Now, however, he had the opportunity to relax and admire his surroundings, admitting to himself that Sara and her team had some pretty sweet digs. 

They had stepped through the doorway into a shiny, futuristic hallway, which Sara led the little group through until they reached the wing of empty quarters. Oliver had let Felicity pick their room, and she chose the one between Dig’s room and Curtis’. He had noticed that Laurel and Anatoly both chose quarters farther down the hall, away from the others. They had been hanging back from the group, talking in low voices about, he presumed, their time together working for Cayden James. He tried not to intrude. 

Without looking, he knew that Sara had come up to lean against the wall beside him. She followed his gaze to the two ex-villains. He glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Everybody deserves a second chance, Ollie,” she said softly. “I have to believe that.”

When Ava had finished assigning the quarters, she turned to Sara, hands on her hips. “What next, Captain?” 

Sara had grinned deviously and led them to the fabrication room, where they all now stood, clustered around her as she talked to Gideon. The AI had made Anatoly jump, and Diggle was sneaking suspicious glances at the ceiling every now and then, but everyone else seemed to take it in stride. 

“Eight copies of pattern P-27, please,” Sara said, gesturing at the group. “One for each of them, Gideon, go ahead and take their measurements if you don’t have them on file.”

“One moment, please.” The smooth voice of the AI sounded… hesitant? “Captain, are you sure you would like to select this pattern? These pajamas were designed-”

“Shh, Gideon, you’ll ruin it!” Sara hissed at the ceiling. “I want to see their faces!”

Gideon sounded remarkably exasperated for an artificial intelligence. “Very well, then.”  
The clear chamber in the wall glowed, and eight neatly folded piles of clothing began to materialize behind the panel.

“This is so _cool_ ,” Curtis hissed to Felicity. She nodded wordlessly. 

Sara squinted at the clothes as they finished fabricating, little name cards appearing on top of each one. She scoffed suddenly, beckoning Ava over and whispering in her ear frantically. Ava rolled her eyes. 

Sara turned to the group. “Alright, gang, there’s been a, let’s say, a minor inconvenience. A little technical difficulty, if you will. Everyone grab the pajamas with your name on the card and follow me.” With that, she stormed out.

Rene shrugged and grabbed his pile. “I’m gonna do what she says, I don’t know about y’all.”

Felicity grinned at Oliver and tossed him his pile. He caught it one-handed and hurried after Sara. This whole thing felt exciting in a childish way he hadn’t felt in a long time, like sneaking around during sleepovers with Tommy when they were little, before they had discovered parties and alcohol. He saw some of that excitement on Dinah’s face as she held her bundle to her chest. He even saw it on Anatoly’s face as he gave a bemused smile to the soft fabric, and on Laurel’s as she ran her thumb across her name card. 

Sara led them through gleaming hallway after gleaming hallway before stopping abruptly, nearly sending Curtis sprawling. They were in the entrance to some sort of common room- it looked like a library, but Oliver didn’t get a good look before Sara planted her hands on her hips and yelled. 

“ _JOHN!_ ”

Oliver felt Diggle flinch slightly behind him. 

She turned to face him, smiling sweetly. “Not you, sorry, can I see that a minute?” she asked, taking the top layer of the pile he held and shaking it out, revealing a blue pajama shirt emblazoned with a giant-

“Beebo?” Diggle asked, disbelieving. He unfolded the remaining fabric to reveal fluffy pants in a lighter blue, patterned with blue faces. “Are these- are they _Beebo_ pajamas?!”

“You know Beebo?” Ava asked him, a smile tugging one corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, I know Beebo, JJ loves that creepy little bastard,” Dig muttered.

Sara shook the shirt, glaring like it had personally insulted her. “They weren't _supposed_ to be Beebo pajamas! They were supposed to be awesome dark green pajamas that said ‘Honorary Legend’! They were supposed to be _cool_! I programmed that pattern ages ago, in case Team Arrow ever stayed over, and _someone_ edited it!”

A british voice echoed from the room behind her. “To be fair, love, I didn’t mean to.”

She whirled around, throwing the shirt with deadly precision across the room and into the face of a man who had just entered the library through the other door, leading a group of familiar faces.

“Is that Ray? Hi!” Felicity greeted delightedly, darting around Sara and the man with a Beebo shirt plastered across his face. She gave Ray a quick squeeze, then turned to the other newcomers. “Wally? I didn’t know you were with the Legends!”

“It’s a recent development,” admitted the kid, who Oliver recognized as being one of Barry’s old team members. “We all just finished doing the memory adjustments and everything. Gideon told us to come down here.”

The groups mingled as friends reunited and introductions were made and powers and backstories were compared. In the center of the chaos, Sara advanced on the man- who was he, that voice was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it- and Oliver found himself standing between them, as if to break up a fight. As if he could really stop Sara from hitting someone if she was dead set on it.

“What’s going on, Sara? Who’s this?”

“Is that _Oliver Queen_ I hear?” The stranger laughed, pulling the pajama shirt off his face. John Constantine grinned rakishly at him, eyes twinkling. “Hello, love. Long time, no see.”

“Constantine?” Oliver gaped at him. 

Constantine tossed the shirt to Diggle behind him without looking. “I’m a Legend now, darling.”

“You won’t be for long if you don’t explain yourself!” Sara threatened. “Why is pattern P-27 suddenly _Beebo pajamas_?”

“I was just messing about, alright? I reckoned that you already had the fluffy-pajamas template down, I just wanted to tweak the design. I thought I made a new pattern, turns out I just edited your old one, our guests get to be clad in the symbol of innocence and friendship, everything works out!” He smiled, spreading his hands. “I’m new here, I’m still learning the ship.”

“I did try to tell you, Ms. Lance,” Gideon’s voice pointed out.

Oliver didn’t really want to know the answer, but he asked anyway. “But… why did you want to fabricate Beebo pajamas in the first place?”

Sara buried her face in her hand and sighed. 

Constantine shrugged, blushing a bit. “Though our little fling all those summers ago shall always hold a place in my heart, love, I’ve moved on. Repeatedly. Let’s just say I’ve got a thing with a certain fellow, currently. Nothing serious, we just send each other horrific Beebo merchandise, play D&D every so often, hook up occasionally. You know how it is,” he said, waving a hand vaguely. “The pajama pattern was for him.”

Oliver wished he had never asked. “That’s… nice, John.”

“Hey, I have a question,” called Felicity. While they had been talking, the others had moved to spread out over the mismatch cluster of couches and armchairs that filled the corner of the library. Felicity sat on the arm of a couch, swinging her legs as a woman- Zari, he remembered- braided her hair. “Why are you with the Legends? They’re all time-travel-and-future-tech, you’re all magic-and-demons, or whatever.”

“Turns out the Legends are kinda magic-and-demons too,” said a young man that he recognized as Dr. Nate Heywood. He smiled sadly. “There was a whole thing with these magic totems, and an-”

“-Unstoppable time demon, yeah, we heard that part,” Rene interjected from the armchair he was tucked into. “That’s some crazy shit.”

“It sure is,” Constantine agreed. “And it’s only getting crazier. Which is why, if you wouldn’t mind, Oliver?” He reached up to a shelf where a short staff rested. “I’ve been meaning to do this ever since I joined the Legends, but we hadn’t run into you lot yet.”

Oliver recognized it as the artifact Constantine had found on Lian Yu so many years ago. He automatically pressed his hand to his ribs, could almost feel the tattoo burning beneath his shirt like it had when he’d first gotten it from that very staff. Constantine waved it at him. “I heard my little gift came in handy a few years ago, but you’re extremely unlikely to face dark magic of that level again soon. Captain Lance, on the other hand… ”

Sara tilted her head. “Wait, what?” Next to her, Ava tensed, but stood down when the captain squeezed her hand.

“Sure.” Oliver reached for the neck of his shirt and tugged it off, ignoring the stares. He’d stopped being self-conscious of his scars some time ago, but it still made him want to cover back up when he caught the shocked glances of some of the others. Did they think the infamous hood meant he was invulnerable? His body was a map of how far he’d come, as a fighter and as a person. It was what it was.

“ _Kapiushon_ ,” Anatoly said quietly. “Your Bratva tattoo.”

Oliver didn’t glance down to where the tattoo had been, didn’t want to remember the burning when he saw the scar. “Adrian Chase. A blowtorch. Bad weekend,” he explained, humorlessly. He saw Laurel flinch out of the corner of his eye.

“I did not know,” Anatoly said. He looked sorrowful.

“Hey, dude, on the bright side, you’re ripped as _fuck_ ,” Wally said, wincing at the words even as they left his mouth. “Was that insensitive? I feel like that was insensitive. Sorry, man.”

Oliver just smiled tightly at him. Constantine muttered in a strange language over the staff, then turned to Sara. “Your arm, please, love.”

She made an ‘ _aha_ ’ face, shrugging off her jacket and extending her arm. Constantine continued muttering, touching the staff to where the symbols began and tracing it along Oliver’s abs, the tattoo vanishing as he went. With his other hand, he grasped Sara’s forearm, pressing his palm to her skin as the symbols appeared. She made a face but didn’t move at the pain as he finished the incantation, releasing her arm and setting the staff back on its shelf. 

“Alrighty then! Our captain now has an extra layer of protection, hurrah. Sorry to take it from you, Ollie darling, but that’s how this spell works.”

“I don’t mind,” Oliver said, ignoring the ‘darling’ and running his hand over the now-unblemished place on his ribs. He sat on a couch, next to Dig, who made room for him silently. “It was the only one left.”

“Right, because you got Shado’s dragon removed a couple years ago,” Felicity remembered. 

“And the whole,” Zari paused in her braiding to wave one hand at her chest. “Aahhgh. Fire. You know.”

“I didn’t choose to lose the Bratva tattoo, it’s true,” Oliver said thoughtfully. “But it was time. That part of my life is over. Besides, I chose to get it in the first place, which is more than I can say about the others.”

“True,” Anatoly agreed. “I remember, you tell me, after tattoo was complete, about what a ‘better experience’ it was than your other two. Something about getting the dragon without your consent as form of torture while you were in chains?”

Felicity looked horrified. “I knew the tattoo was from Slade after he went crazy, but you never told me that,” she said softly. 

“The other one was happier story, don’t worry,” Anatoly reassured her, snickering. “Some dashing british lad put spell on him.”

“You said I was dashing?” Constantine grinned, batting his eyelashes.

_"I did not."_

“Well, I certainly thought _you_ were dashing.”

“You- hang on a second,” Oliver held up a hand. “Just now, you put the tattoo on Sara’s arm. And when you had it, on the island, it was on your arm. Why didn’t you put it on my arm?”

“Er, because I predicted you would want to go back home eventually so I put it in a workplace-friendly non-visible location?”

“Hm, that does not sound- how you say, ‘legit?’- to me,” Anatoly scoffed.

“Fine then, I thought you were hot and I put it on your abs so you would pull up your shirt. It was years ago, I was young and irresponsible, no one can blame me.”

Oliver summoned his deadliest glare. 

Constantine raised his hands in mock surrender, but Anatoly just rolled his eyes. “What? Don’t look at me like that, _Kapiushon_.” He looked so affronted, Oliver had to squash a laugh. Who would have thought that after all this time, he would be relaxing in a timeship with hope in his heart, listening to John Constantine and Anatoly Knyazev of all people throw banter back and forth. 

“It’s almost poetic,” Laurel mused quietly from her perch on one of the library tables. She ducked her head when they turned to her, blonde hair hiding her face. “Just… The tattoo that you got by choice was removed without your consent, but the ones that were forced on you- whether through actual force or just the circumstances- you chose when to remove.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Oliver admitted.

“And now they’re all gone,” Sara said, leaning her head on Ava’s shoulder. “Blank slate. Fresh start.”

“A fresh start,” he repeated, quietly. He thought about the relief of getting to stay with his family, with his team. He thought about Quentin. He thought about how bitterly he had fought people in this room only months ago, people he was now laughing with. A fresh start, indeed.

“Alright, Legends and losers, we’re all exhausted,” Nate said, standing and stretching. “It has been a long-ass day. Everyone has rooms and pajamas, right? I say we all hit the hay, save the debrief for tomorrow.”

“We never debrief, you’re just trying to make us look cool in front of Team Arrow,” Ray complained.

“Whatever,” Nate shrugged. “I bet Mick is asleep already- wait, where’s Mick?”

“Mick went to sleep the second we got back,” said Ray. “Did you seriously not notice?”

“I think sleep is a good idea,” Ava whispered, pointing out Curtis and Dinah, who had begun to doze off on each other’s shoulders. Rene poked them awake with his foot.

“Don’t forget your pajamas, Team Arrow!” Constantine called as everyone began stretching and heading towards their rooms. “Sara made them with love! And I helped!”

Oliver paused in the doorway and squeezed Felicity’s hand. “I’ll be right there, okay?” 

She smiled and gave him a kiss, turning to go, then stopped, turned around, and stared at him, face serious. “Tonight we need to clean up and get some sleep,” she promised. “But tomorrow, we are having a conversation about that deal you set up with Watson.”

“That’s fair,” he admitted, closing his eyes and resting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry. I thought it was the only way, at the time.”

“ _Shh_. Tomorrow.” She kissed him again, then followed the others out through the hallway. 

Then it was just him, Sara, and Laurel in the library. 

Laurel looked at them with a bittersweet expression. “Thank you, both of you, for including me,” she said. “I can tell that it’s been hard.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Sara said softly, echoing her words from before.

“That’s not what I meant,” Laurel admitted. There was a moment of silence. “I think… I was talking to that kid. Wally. He said that he used to date a girl from my Earth. He said it’s better there, now that Zoom is defeated. He said his ex runs with a group of heroes there, who keep people safe.”

Oliver stared. “You… want to go back?”

“I think so. I hurt so many people here, I need to, I don’t know, I need to do some kind of-”

“Penance?” Sara asked. “I’ve been there. As motivators for vigilantism go, it’s not a bad one- just be careful that it doesn’t turn into self-hatred. You need a team around you, if you go that route.”

“I know. I hope I can find one there. But I can’t stay here, not with her face. I see it when you look at me. That won’t ever stop hurting. The best thing I can do to thank you, to apologize, is leave.”

Oliver reached out and held her shoulder. “Think about it some more, but if you’re sure, I know a guy who knows a guy. We’ll get you home.”

Sara stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Laurel smiled at them both, eyes glimmering, then left. 

Sara wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. For a moment, Oliver could see past the cocky captain to the woman beneath. Not the Sara he grew up with, by any means, but a scared woman who had been through so much, almost lost her father, and still found the strength to be kind to a stranger who wore her dead sister’s face.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he said quietly. He felt small in that moment, shirtless and tired and leaning on the back of a chair for support. “How do you do it? How do you lead them through horrors and keep this,” he waved a hand around, trying to articulate the laughter and happiness that pervaded the ship. “This _joy_?”

“You just have to embrace the crazy,” Sara smiled. He could tell she knew exactly what he meant. “The inside jokes, the pranks, the bickering, the sheer ridiculousness. You have to find a way to let go of your fear, and remember that we don’t have to be soldiers, or assassins, or killers. Not all the time. You can let the light in.” 

He let his eyes close, picturing William and Raisa, Felicity saying her vows, the teams laughing and talking together. 

“Here,” Sara said, and he opened his eyes to see her holding out his pajama pile. He took it, smiling at the garish blue faces. “Everyone else took theirs.”

“Thank you,” he said. For the pajamas. For the Waverider. For always _understanding_ him. For helping him to let in the light.

“No problem,” she grinned. Her smile dimmed as she gazed at him, glancing down at his chest. “And hey, Ollie, I know what you’ll say, but I thought I’d offer- We have a really fancy medbay, here. If you wanted, you could- your scars, I mean- the ones with really painful memories, you could-”

“No,” he whispered, cutting her off. “Like I said before, they show where I’ve been. Who I’ve been.”

“Like the tattoos did.”

He made a sound of agreement.

“All my old scars are gone, did you know that? Ever since the Lazarus Pit.”

Oliver shook his head. Sara examined her forearm, running her fingers across her new tattoo. “I think I like this,” she said. “Using art, not pain, to mark your growth. I might get more.” She looked up at him. “You could, too. If you wanted.”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he agreed, the end of the word turning into a jaw-popping yawn.

“Get some rest, Ollie,” she said, her voice fond, walking across the room to open the door for him.

He gave her a little salute as he walked out and headed to his and Felicity’s room. Part of his mind was already planning how he would organize a visit to Quentin, debrief the Diaz situation with everyone, apologize to Felicity, and on, and on. That militant efficiency was as natural to him as breathing, now. But as for the rest of him… he spared a glance to the grinning Beebo shirt, remembered what Sara had said. 

He’d have to learn to let in the light. But Diggle was right, there was no way around it- the light was one creepy little bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this whole thing came from one tiny scene idea. That scene where Constantine transfers the tattoo from Oliver to Sara, and admits he only put it on Ollie's abs in the first place to check him out? It was a little theory my sister and I came up with when Sara was confirmed for the finale, and obviously it didn't come true, so I thought I'd write it out. And hey, if Sara was there, doesn't it make sense for the whole gang to show up? And while they're there, why not help out? Somehow, that turned into everything that leads up to that scene. Which, at one point, turned into me trying to juggle 16 characters in a room, all having a conversation. Yikes. I kinda sympathize more with the writers during the crossovers, now. 
> 
> People might not be in character, sorry. I was trying to capture the way characters change when they cross over to other shows within the Arrowverse, given that each show has such a distinctive mood. Arrow and LoT, in particular, have VERY different energies.
> 
> I'm working on another LoT fic which should be out within a month, look out for that! If you catch a typo or a really obvious mistake, don't hesitate to let me know. Feel free to tell me what you think & say hi in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment telling me what you think, if you found a typo, whatever!


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